Killing Time
by TinDog
Summary: A series of vignettes set during an accidental exile on an alien planet. "It was mostly Daniel's fault. The whole team was in agreement on that point."
1. Complications

I. Complications

It was mostly Daniel's fault. The whole team was in agreement on that point, even Daniel; though by the third or fourth time O'Neill groused about "damn archaeologists" and "civilian interference," Daniel's patience began to wear thin.

"Would you rather I hadn't ducked, Jack?"

"It was just a zat, Daniel. How many times have you been zatted?"

"I'm sorry my instinct for self-preservation is such a problem for you."

Carter stepped in. "Sir, it was really my fault. If I hadn't let down my guard that man wouldn't have been able to grab my zat."

"Save it, Carter. I need you to take another look at that DHD and see if you can repair it. As far as I saw, only one blast actually hit it."

"Yes, sir."

"Colonel O'Neill. Will General Hammond not send a search team if we do not report back at the appointed time?" Teal'c said, scanning the area for further threats.

"Yeah, he will send a team," O'Neill said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "To the planet he thinks we are on."

"I thought the Russian team was going to pass along the gate address to this planet, sir," Carter called from beneath the smoking DHD.

****************************************************************************************************************

SG-1 has been joining an already-established Russian team on a joint diplomatic mission to a planet called Roark. The Tauri delegation had just stepped forward to meet their welcoming party when the stargate had re-activated behind them, delivering a group of three tall, skeletal men who immediately began howling for help. The Roarkian ambassador and her party had looked uncomfortable, but ignored them.

"Aren't you gonna, I don't know, help them?" O'Neill said sardonically.

"Colonel O'Neill," Ambassador Maeva Bovee said stiffly. "There is nothing we can do for them."

"There must be something," Daniel said incredulously. He moved in their direction, but the ambassador grabbed his shoulder.

"I tell you, there is nothing. This is a sad but not infrequent occurance. These . . . strangers . . . invariably die within a few days of passing through the ring. Our medicine can do nothing for them. And in any case they will only lash out at us if we try."

"Do they always exhibit the same symptoms?" Daniel asked curiously.

"Symptoms?"

"Irrational behavior. Violence. Malnourishment."

"I see. Yes. Yes, they all behave the same way."

Carter's eyes met Daniel's across the circle. "Australia," Daniel said, and Carter nodded.

"Of course!"

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "Of what do you speak, Daniel Jackson?"

"Australia, Teal'c. It's, well, it was, originally, a penal colony," Daniel said excitedly.

"It's a fairly remote continent," Carter explained, jumping in before Daniel could get lost in a long-winded historical lecture. "At one time it was common practice for criminals and other undesirables to be exiled there."

"Let me get this straight," O'Neill cut in. "You're saying that the people of some other planet are using this planet as a dumping ground for their terminally ill citizens."

"In a nutshell, yes, sir," Carter said.

"We can't just leave them to die," Daniel said.

"Sir, I agree. It may be something as simple as a vitamin deficiency or a lack of antibiotics," Carter said, looking to O'Neill.

"I should know better by now," he said unhappily. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

"There are only three of them, sir," Carter said, checking her weapon.

"You don't understand," Ambassador Bovee said, looking distressed. "They are terribly strong and they are not in their right minds."

"Would it not be prudent to send them back to their homeworld?" Teal'c suggested.

"We do not allow them anywhere near our gate. We fear angering the leaders of their world. We are not a militant people."

"We have to help them," Daniel said, his face set in an expression that said I'm going to help them no matter what you say. "Jack? Sam?"

"Let us try to talk to them, Ambassador. We'll be very clear that we are not acting under your orders." Carter headed for the men. After a moment's hesitation the ambassador, though frowning, signalled to her bodyguard to let the Earth team pass. Daniel was already ahead of her, holding up his empty hands to prove he meant no harm.

"Did I mention I have a bad feeling about this?" O'Neill said to Teal'c.

"Indeed you did, O'Neill."

"As long as we have that on the record. Come on, T." And O'Neill and Teal'c followed Carter and Daniel toward the still-howling men.

What happened next had been a bit of a blur. Daniel had reached the men first, with Carter close behind. The men appeared to calm down a bit as Daniel spoke to them. Sam reached out to check the pulse of the man closest to her. And suddenly he had her zat, and another grabbed Daniel's sidearm, and the whole thing had escalated into a hostage situation which culminated in Ambassador Bovee dialing the gate to send the men- and their hostages-home.

"The address!" O'Neill had shouted as he was dragged backward toward the gate. "Tell the Rus-" His voice cut off abruptly as he vanished into the open wormhole.

The situation on the other side was chaotic. O'Neill twisted out of his captor's grasp as they stumbled out of the gate. To his left Carter was grappling with someone tall and hairy. Daniel, glasses slipping down his nose, was yelling something incomprehensible and firing his zat wildly into the crowd. Shots rang out, interspersed with the discharges of Teal'c's staff weapon. He saw Daniel duck and a beam of energy hit the DHD. And suddenly the noise died down and the crowd dispersed, fading away into the forest surrounding the temple ruins and leaving behind only the bodies of the three men they had originally made contact with.

*****************************************************************************************************************

"I didn't get a chance to talk to the Russians," O'Neill said, pulling Sam's zat gun from the hand of one of the bodies. "I don't know if you've noticed, Danny-boy, but these humanitarian aid situations always end up with people dying."

Daniel, who had been examining some carvings on a nearby section of wall, looked over his shoulder at his commanding officer. "I don't know if you've noticed, Jack, but people are dying no matter what we do. I couldn't walk away, knowing we could have helped."

"Yeah, well, I didn't exactly see us helping anybody just then," O'Neill said, clearly disgusted with the whole situation. "That's the last time I buy anyone's sob story."

"So you did believe him. It wasn't completely my fault," Daniel said, digging a notebook out of his pocket. O'Neill ignored him.

"Carter, how's it coming?"

Carter stood up, brushing dust off her pants. "Not good, sir. It was a direct hit. I'm afraid some of these crystals are really fried. It could take some time to get this thing operational."

O'Neill raised an eyebrow. "Some time, Carter? Could ya be more specific?"

"I'm sorry, sir. It could be days."

"Oh, for crying out loud." O'Neill muttered. He spun on his heel impatiently, heading out toward the half-crumbled outer wall of the temple. "Teal'c, with me. We're gonna do a little reconnaisance. Daniel?"

The archaeologist's eyebrows raised quizzically behind his glasses. "Yes?"

"Just- just don't duck next time, okay?"

"Okay, Jack." He turned back to the inscription he was translating, unfazed. It was his fault today. Yesterday it had been Carter's fault; the day before, Teal'c was to blame. The team was always in some sort of trouble and it always got out again; and damned if he wasn't going to get as much translating done as he could before the inevitable shooting began again.


	2. Strangers in a Strange Land

II. Strangers in a Strange Land

"It's unnatural," O'Neill grumbled. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Teal'c raise an eyebrow. "For them to not be bored out of their skulls," the colonel explained, gesturing toward Carter and Dr. Jackson. "We've spent three days now in the middle of nowhere, and they're perfectly content. I feel like we're caught in that damn time loop again."

"I, too, would like something more to occupy my time," Teal'c said.

"You could patch up the roof of that shelter you built," Daniel called, looking up from his notebook. "I got rained on last night."

"Who says I didn't design it to do that?" Jack retorted, sliding down to sit against the wall. He and Teal'c were keeping watch; but after a lifetime of military service, vigilance was his body's default setting. The task required no real concentration. And after three uneventful days of staring at the same ruins, the same field, and the same forest, O'Neill was quickly descending into a dangerously restless mood.

"Very funny, Jack," Daniel said mildly, refusing to rise to the bait.

Great. He couldn't even get an argument started to pass the time. O'Neill pried a stone out of the earth by his right thigh and tossed it gloomily out into the tall grass. "I'd give my right arm for a cold beer and a fishing pole," he said to no one in particular. "And a lake. Gotta have a lake. And-"

"Colonel O'Neill, I have observed smoke to the west of here many times. Perhaps we could see if there is a village there."

"I don't want us getting mixed up with these people again. We just need to lie low until Carter gets the DHD operational."

"That may no longer be an option," Teal'c said gravely.

"Why's that?" O'Neill peeled himself upright, scanning the treeline. Teal'c had his staff weapon aimed and ready to fire; O'Neill drew his gun too and sighted in on the lone figure emerging from the forest. Behind him, Carter and Daniel dropped what they were doing and readied themselves for a fight.

"It's okay," Daniel said suddenly. "He's showing us his hands. He's not going to attack us."

"That's what they all say," O'Neill said, not lowering his gun.

The man was a giant. Middle-aged, bearded, and robust, he stood several inches above Teal'c's height and outweighed him by at least twenty pounds of muscle. He was clad in a neatly-belted orange tunic with a cloak pinned at the shoulder and massive leather boots. A sword hung from the belt, but he made no motion to draw it. He spread his empty palms out wide for their inspection and called out what sounded like a greeting.

"Daniel?" Jack said, not taking his eyes off the stranger.

"I think I can understand him. The language seems very similar to our Welsh," Daniel said with interest. He stepped forward and spoke to the man, his words halting and hesitant at first but gaining confidence as the man responded. Finally he turned back to his team.

"His name is Llew. He's the chief of his clan. His village is just a few miles that way. That's the source of your smoke, Teal'c."

"What does he want?" Jack asked, lowering his weapon but keeping his trigger finger ready.

"He wants to know if we're the Children of Llyr," Daniel said, looking amused.

"Tell him he's got the wrong address. No, wait. Ask him when's the last time these kids were here."

"They're not kids-" Daniel broke off, realizing Jack didn't care. He turned back to Llew and spoke to him. When he turned back to Jack, relief was written on his face. "Their gods haven't visited them for almost a thousand years."

Carter looked relieved as well. "That's good. We shouldn't need to worry about encountering the Goa'uld here."

"Jack, there is one other thing," Daniel said.

"Of course there is."

"He'd like us to come back to his village with him."

"Nope. No can do. Not happening."

"That's hardly diplomatic."

Before the two men could begin arguing, Carter spoke up. "Our objective is to gather technology to help us fight the Goa'uld. These people are obviously free of Goa'uld oppression. Maybe we can learn something from them."

Jack stared. "Are you joking? Look at this guy's outfit. Straight from the local Renaissance Faire. If these people have anything remotely related to technology, I'll eat Teal'c's hat. Besides which, I seem to remember that some of his men tried to kill us. It's petty, I know, but I just don't like people who try to kill me."

Daniel turned back and cobbled together a few sentences. Llew nodded vigorously, interrupting him, and replied with emphasis. Daniel looked at Jack.

"He says they were ill. They were not in their right minds. He apologizes for their behavior."

"Oh, well, as long as he's sorry."

"Jack, please," Daniel said. "I think it would be advantageous to see what's going on here."

"I agree, sir."

"T?"

"We have nothing to lose, O'Neill."

O'Neill huffed out a breath, looking resigned. "All right. Daniel, you and Teal'c go with Little John here. Carter, keep doing what you're doing. I'll stay back to keep watch."

"Sir, weren't you just complaining about how boring it is here? I think I'll be fine here on my own."

"Not open for debate, Carter," he said in his best Commanding Officer voice. "You're stuck with me."

**********************************************************************************************************

Jack's assessment had been spot on. Llew's people lived in a simple agrarian society. The two members of SG-1 followed Llew through a belt of forest and out into a broad field dotted with cattle and sheep. Thatched cottages clustered at the far end of the field, overlooked by several larger buildings and one self-important stone hall.

"I guess your hat is safe for the time being," Daniel said. "There's nothing that can help us here."

"All of my hats are back on Earth, Daniel Jackson. Is the consumption of headwear a common practice among the Tauri?"

"N-no, not really. It's just an expression."

"It is most peculiar."

Ahead of them, Llew gestured for them to halt. He went forward and banged on the door of the stone building until a small boy emerged.

"My fifth son," Llew announced. He knelt and spoke to the boy.

"He's asking the boy to take a message to his mother and the other wives," Daniel told Teal'c. Teal'c nodded, unsurprised. "I believe he is ordering a feast in our honor. And in the meantime, he's going to show us around the village."

A group of citizens had begun to form around them and did not disperse when Llew rejoined his guests, but trailed in their wake like the tail of a comet. Their stares and jostling made Teal'c uncomfortable, though he did not show it. Daniel seemed delighted. He conversed with Llew and with those nearest him, storing up scraps of information about their culture and history. Llew was obviously enormously gratified at the opportunity to show off his little kingdom to these strangers. Under his proud gaze Teal'c and Daniel admired the herds of livestock, tasted milk and cheese at the dairy, felt the fine wool shorn from the sheep. They watched the smith at his forge and the miller at his wheel, the artisans plying their various crafts.

"These people are not just eking out an existance here. They are thriving." Daniel's eyes were bright with enthusiasm. "This is history, Teal'c. Living, breathing history."

"Indeed." Teal'c paused. "What of the illness we observed on Roark, Daniel Jackson? Should we not make inquiries?"

Daniel's euphoria deflated. "Ah. Yes. You're right. I'll ask him."

"Come," Llew said, clapping a heavy hand down on Daniel's shoulder. "You must see this. Our young men are the most skilled in the country at archery."

"Llew, as delightful as this tour has been, we have a more serious matter to discuss," Daniel said.

"Yes?" The chieftain waited, looking expectant.

"The sick men we encountered. The ones who brought us through the stargate. What can you tell us about them, about their illness?"

Llew frowned. "Nothing. There is nothing to tell."

"I, uh, I can't accept that. There must be something."

"You are persistent."

"Personal policy. Get answers or die trying," Daniel said wryly. "Sometimes both."

"Is your life less dear to you than your desire for knowledge?" Llew asked.

"Sometimes knowledge is more important than an individual life," Daniel said. Llew's hand dropped onto his shoulder again and clasped it hard enough that Daniel knew he'd have a bruise later.

"You are an odd man, Daniel, but I admire you."

"So you'll tell me about the illness?"

Llew guffawed. "Persistant. Watch the archery demonstration and I'll take you and your friend to our healers."

************************************************************************************************************

The healers, as it turned out, did their work in a small compound a little way removed from the rest of the village. Three cottages held cots, a few empty but most occupied by still bodies; a fourth cottage provided living space for the three healers and their assistants.

"All these people suffer from the fever," the healer on duty told Daniel.

"Will they all go mad?" Daniel asked, pacing slowly down the length of the room. Most of the patients were asleep. Those who were awake seemed lethargic and unfocused.

"Not all," the healer said. "Perhaps half. It begins as a simple fever, and the mind roams. Sometimes if comes back. Sometimes it does not. Those whose minds go rambling without their bodies, we cannot help. They will not eat. They forget to breathe."

"Their organs shut down," Daniel murmured. This was not his area of expertise, especially without access to Earth medical technology. His best guess was a genetic disorder of some sort, or perhaps a parasite. Sam- and Janet, if they ever made it back to Earth- would have a theory, if he gathered enough information.

"Is there a- a rash, or a wound of any sort?" Daniel asked, struggling to find the vocabulary he needed.

"There is nothing. Only the fever."

"And if they get worse, you send them through the stargate." The healer looked at him, confused. "The ring, the large stone circle?"

"The Doorway!" the assistant said, and the healer nodded.

"We send them to the Otherworld. We send them to the gods, to Mabon, to be healed."

"Mabon," Daniel repeated in English. "Welsh god of youth and love."

"I have not heard that name in many years," Teal'c commented. "Why do they speak of Mabon?"

"They believe he lives on the other side of the stargate and heals the people they send through."

"He was killed many years ago, I believe."

"Long enough for them to think of him as a benevolent deity, anyway" Daniel said.

"Are you Mabon's messengers?" the healer's assistant asked tentatively, recalling Daniel's wandering attention.

"Gwyn!" the healer snapped.

"I heard they came through the Doorway!" the assistant said, undaunted.

"We did," Daniel said gently, "but we're not messengers from Mabon. We're just ordinary men. Explorers. And we'd like to help you if it's at all possible."

"I do not understand how an ordinary man came to step through the Doorway," the healer said. "But there is much in this world I do not understand. We will be glad of any help you can give us."

"Meanwhile, let us return to my hall. I thirst," Llew said simply. "Come, travelers. To home, and roast meat, and ale."

****************************************************************************************************************

Back at their camp, Sam was glad the sun was setting. She'd spent a frustrating afternoon tinkering while Jack hovered over her shoulder, talking and whistling and generally disrupting her concentration. She was about to call it a day when one of his questions actually struck a chord.

"What's the deal with your watch, Carter? That's not standard issue."

Sam glanced down at her wrist. She'd been in a rush the morning they left and had overlooked her civilian wristwatch while dressing for the mission. The slim silver band gleamed on her wrist, incongruous next to her black t-shirt and drab, utilitarian pants and boots.

"Earth to Carter!" Jack said, waving a hand in front of her eyes.

"Sorry, sir. I think you may have just given me an idea." She was already fumbling with the catch, sliding the watch off and turning it over in her palm. O'Neill was watching, waiting for her inevitable burst of scientific jargon, but Sam simply looked up at him and said "Quartz."

"Gallons," O'Neill shot back. His second-in-command smiled despite herself.

"Quartz, sir. The mineral. It's a crystal." She was digging in Daniel's pack, face flushed with excitement; after a moment she pulled out his eyeglass repair kit and extracted the miniature screwdriver.

"Isn't it a bit smaller than the crystals in the DHD?" O'Neill said.

"Yes, sir, it's a lot smaller. But it's not blasted to fragments. It's a longshot, but if I can use it to bridge the gap in the circuit, so to speak-"

"We may be able to make this thing limp along long enough to get us the hell out of here," O'Neill finished for her. "Carter, you're a treasure."

"I do my best, sir." Was she blushing? It was hard to say, with her head bent over her work like that. Jack moved closer, watching her deft fingers manipulating the little screwdriver.

"Sir, you're blocking my light."

"Sorry." He shifted a bit, unwilling to walk away altogether. Watching Carter at work was always fascinating: her hands steady, her eyes bright, her entire self given over to tackling the problem at hand.

"Colonel."

He shifted again. "Better?"

Sam looked up suddenly. "If this doesn't work," she said, "we won't get a second chance. That amount of power will very likely fracture the quartz into unusable pieces."

"So it'll work," O'Neill said, shrugging.

"It has to," Sam said, bending again to her task. O'Neill bent too, leaning in to look as she popped the back cover off the watch.

"Colonel!"

"Don't tell me. I'm in your light again."

"Don't take this personally, sir- but please go away. I'll find you if I need you." Sam was laughing, but she meant it.

"Cold, Carter. Stone cold," O'Neill said, retreating. He resumed his post at the old temple's doorway, staring out across the darkening field.


	3. Temptation

III. Temptation

Carter found O'Neill lying on his back on one of the stone ledges outside the temple, hands clasped loosely against his stomach. She approached slowly, reluctant to disturb him but needing to share her burden. "It didn't work, sir."

The colonel turned his head. Pulled his sunglasses off. Opened one eye to squint at her. "Jack," he said.

"Sir?"

"Call me Jack. If we're gonna be trapped here for the rest of our lives, you might as well lose the 'sir.' "

Sam bit her lip. His brown eyes met hers in a long look, unwavering. She knew what he was thinking about, because it was always there in the back of her mind too: the flashing screen of the zatarc detector, its coldly scientific revelation of what was written in both their hearts. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to look away, to remain professional. "We're going to get home, sir."

"How, Carter?" The colonel sat up, swinging his feet to the ground. "We have no DHD and no power source. Oh, and Stargate Command has no idea where we went. Are you sure optimism is our best line of defense right now?"

"With all due respect, sir, I'm not ready to give up just yet."

O'Neill gave her another long look. "Jack," he said again. Carter closed her eyes to cut herself off from his intensity. Jack had always walked closer to the line than she did. She would fall, if he kept pushing. No one could be that strong forever.

"Colonel O'Neill," she said softly. "Please."

This time, his gaze was tinged with resignation. "Major," he said. "I guess you can get us off this rock if anyone can."

"Thank you, sir." Sam took a few steps away. Her heart twisted in her chest- with regret, with frustration, with longing- and she wished she could run out into the forest, to get as far from Jack O'Neill as humanly possible. Lost in her own thoughts, she didn't hear the colonel's footsteps. When he touched her shoulder and said "Sam," she jumped.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he said.

"It's okay, sir."

His hand was still on her shoulder. He took a step closer, his eyes searching her face. "Carter," he said, and stopped. He swallowed hard. "Sam. Samantha."

"Colonel, we can't," she said miserably.

"Not even just once? The rules of the game don't apply here, Sam. And I don't want to live the rest of my life kicking myself in the pants for being a fine upstanding officer."

"You know how I feel about you," Carter said.

"You know I feel the same way." Jack released her shoulder, telling her with a language that went beyond words that he was not going to pressure her into crossing any boundaries. Sam half-turned, wrapping her arms around herself.

"And what happens when the SGC locates us? Or when I finally get the DHD fixed? What about the regulations, Jack? What about honor?"

"Sam." His voice was gentle. "Don't beat yourself up. We can forget we ever had this conversation." The words had scarcely left his mouth when Sam whirled and kissed him, a forceful, desperate kiss that caught them both by surprise. She broke away, panting.

"Ess-gee-won?" A strange voice broke the silence. Jack and Sam both jumped and turned toward the speaker, faces emblazoned with defiance and shock. It was a boy, perhaps 10 years old, bowing and smiling ingratiatingly. "Ess-gee-won?" he repeated, enunciating carefully.

"Yeah. SG-1," O'Neill said, coming to his senses. He pointed at himself and repeated "SG-1" for good measure. The boy smiled and held out what Sam recognized as a page torn from Daniel's notebook.

"Please tell me that's not a ransom note," she groaned. That would just figure, the way this day was going. Broken DHD, botched repair job, breakdown of self-control...why not throw in a hostage situation? She watched as O'Neill unfolded the note and perused its contents for what seemed like an agonizingly long time.

"Huh," was all he said. Carter bit back a scream of frustration.

"What is it, sir?"

He looked up, his face relaxing into a grin. "It's an invitation, Carter. They're having a feast in our honor."

Carter still looked wary. "And we're not the main course or anything?"

"Daniel says the food looks good and we should hurry. Judging by his handwriting, he's had few drinks already. Relax, Carter. I think we've stumbled into some good luck for a change."

"I'll believe that when I see it."

"Lead on. We're right behind you," O'Neill told the boy, gesturing broadly for the boy to start walking. Carter fell into step beside her CO, trying to avoid catching his eye. She would have given anything for Nirrti's invisibility device, or for the ability to travel back in time and stop herself from acting impulsively. What good was technology if it wasn't available when you needed it most?

"Carter," O'Neill said suddenly.

"Sir."

"Jack, dammit!" His fingers twined around hers, warm and strong.

"I'm sorry, sir. I shouldn't have done what I did."

"Don't be sorry." He was still holding her hand. "I'm not."


	4. Pressure

Author's Note: I'm so sorry for the delay between chapters. It's been hard for me to get these characters into my head lately (or any characters, really- one of the worst things about depression is the way it saps my desire and ability to do the things I love to do. It comes and goes like the tide. Right now the tide is going out again, I've got my head above the water, and I can imagine again.)

IV. Pressure

A strong, gusty wind had picked up sometime during the feasting and singing and dancing- not strong enough to do any damage, but enough to make a drunken archaeologist stagger a bit as he walked home with his companions. Teal'c caught Daniel's arm and steadied him, face impassive as always.

"Whew!" Daniel said happily. "Hey, Sam, here comes the cyclone to blow us back to Kansas!"

"Steady there, Lollipop Guild," Jack drawled, coming up on his other side just in time to grab his arm as he lurched away from Teal'c.

"I, I, Jack, I think I had too much mead." Daniel's eyebrows drew up worriedly. His glasses were halfway down his nose, his shirt was halfway unbuttoned, and he was more than halfway plastered. Llew had kept the mead and ale flowing for hours. Daniel was not a big drinker, but he was big on courtesy and local customs. Teal'c, in contrast, seemed unaffected by the tremendous amount of alcohol he'd put away.

"No, Danny, you passed the point of _too much_ about three hours ago, when you started reciting bawdy poetry to Llew's mastiff."

"He laughed," Daniel said, lurching back Teal'c's way.

"My point exactly." Jack met Teal'c's eye over Daniel's head. "What about you, big T? Jaffa don't get drunk?"

"My symbiote processes the alcohol faster than the human body does," Teal'c said.

"So Junior is pretty sloshed right now?"

"I do not believe so, O'Neill."

"Guys? I think I'm gonna lie down now," Daniel said, circling like a dog in the roadway. "My head feels like it's full of bees."

"Daniel Jackson, it is not much further to our camp," Teal'c said, grabbing his arm again.

"Just pick him up," O'Neill advised. "He's too far gone to reason with."

"Indeed."

Sam, walking behind, was barely paying attention to Daniel's plight. She had her head down and was plowing into the wind, fists clenched in her pockets, jaw set. She hated turbulent weather. The scientific part of her brain whispered that she was reacting to was a drop in atmospheric pressure or perhaps the activation of a primitive flight response. The emotional part of her brain shouted out its loathing of the gusting, broody, secretive wind, the masses of clouds like clotted blood hanging overhead, and whatever it was about a storm that made her feel as though her chest cavity was too small to contain her soul. She wanted to scream, to run until she was exhausted, to beat her fists against the trunks of the trees as they passed by.

"Why won't the storm just break?" she muttered savagely.

"We will make camp before the rain comes," Teal'c said, misunderstanding her turmoil for concern.

"In the Amazon," Daniel said, his head lolling against Teal'c's chest, "they get over 100 inches of rain per year."

"Well, this isn't the Amazon, is it? We're never going to see the Amazon again!" Sam snapped. The whole group went quiet. Sam never spoke to Daniel that way. Never.

"I thought you weren't ready to give up," Jack said mildly. Thunder crashed overhead.

"I don't see many other options, _sir_." She pracically sneered the "sir," determined to get a rise out of him. She needed an outlet and was hoping her CO's temper would provide her with a sparring partner.

"We'll sleep on it. Sleep off Llew's hospitality, get a fresh start tomorrow. Don't beat yourself up, Carter. That's an order."

 _Carter_. As though she'd never kissed him. As though he hadn't held her hand. Sam let out a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a sigh. Stuck on a distant planet- not only trapped, but trapped in terrible proximity to her greatest moral dilemma- and the object of that moral dilemma carrying on as though nothing were wrong, drinking and singing and teasing his companions! It was all too much.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Go ahead, Carter."

"I quit, sir."

Jack whirled to face her. "Come again?"

"I quit. It's too much pressure." Thunder again, a long, rolling roar they could feel in their chests. Sam felt the first few drops of rain land on her forehead and her cheek. Jack took another step toward her, his face carefully devoid of emotion.

"Is this about what happened earlier?" He spoke softly, but evidently not softly enough.

"Did you guys hook up?" Daniel yelled, struggling against Teal'c's hold on him. Teal'c set him down. He promptly fell to his knees and vomited.

"Dammit, Daniel, don't be such a lightweight!" Sam snapped. Jack reached out to touch her arm, but she yanked away. "And you, don't touch me. Fight back, damn you. Give me a reaction."

"You want me to yell at you? Fine! I don't accept your resignation, Major! You're gonna stay in my chain of command and you're gonna do your job, do you hear me?"

"Sir!" Carter yelled back automatically. "Having me in your chain of command obviously isn't working for either one of us."

"So this is about earlier."

"Maybe." Sam glared at him. "You acted perfectly fine all night. Normal. You had fun. You let Llew's cousin flirt with you."

"If being involved with you means I have to sit by myself and glower at everyone during social functions, maybe I'm not interested!"

"Well, I'm not interested in a man with the emotional maturity of a cucumber!" The words came out fast, loud, and shrill. Carter stood, rigid with defiance, staring into Jack's face. Lightning flashed and thunder exploded directly overhead, followed immediately by a pelting onslaught of raindrops. The storm had broken, relieving the atmospheric pressure in more ways than one. O'Neill's face twitched as he struggled not to smirk.

"A cucumber, Carter?"

"That's what I said, sir." Despite herself, Sam felt her heart growing lighter. Jack took another step toward her.

"Men compartmentalize," he said simply. "I was focused on diplomatic relations."

"Women sulk," Sam said. "I'm sorry I screamed at you."

"It's been a rough week," Jack said, shrugging. He reached out and took her hand. "Look, Carter, I still don't know how to deal with the honor and the rules and all that junk. So I put it out of my head for a few hours."

"I understand."

"This is really touching," Daniel said from his seat on the ground. "I'm glad we're having this talk."

"Oh, Daniel, I'm sorry," Sam said, helping him up. "Teal'c, I'm so sorry. Let's get back to camp and get dry."

"Are we sure it's safe to light a fire, with Daniel's alcohol content so high?" Jack asked.

Daniel aimed a weak punch at O'Neill. "Very funny. Like you've never been drunk."

"It's funnier when nerds do it."

Sam stepped between them, calm and weary now after her long day and her emotional outburst. "Come on, boys. Home."

"Home," Daniel repeated, leading the way.


	5. Out of Phase

V. Out of Phase

Jack had a yo-yo. The novelty of it had worn off the first afternoon they were there, but he still took it out just about every afternoon, doggedly manipulating the little toy. Its up-and-down rhythym seemed to bring him a measure of comfort. It was, Daniel thought, a compulsive, self-soothing act, similar to the way other people bit their nails.

Sam had her solitude. Ever since her outburst the night of the feast she had been exceptionally quiet and still. She spent a lot of time on voluntary guard duty. Perched on a stable piece of wall, gun laid across her knees, she stared out across the wind-rippling grasses of the alien field and hugged her solitude around herself like a bulletproof vest. Daniel knew better than to try to pry it off her. She'd open up when she felt safe again.

Teal'c had his physical existence. He used the time to improve his discipline and endurance: running miles before sun-up, sparring with men from the village, learning new fighting techniques and honing the skills he already possessed. He spoke little, though that was hardly abnormal for Teal'c, and spent a good bit of time back at camp deep in kelnoreem.

And Daniel? Well, he had his work, though what benefit there was in translating the forgotten writings of an alien culture, he didn't know. He didn't allow himself to stop and question the purpose of it. Life began and ended within the covers of his notebook. He copied images and texts and made notes, filling every centimeter of blank white space with meticulous care as though that fullness would translate over into real life. It was good to be busy, though even work couldn't assuage his gnawing worry for his teammates. The motions of copying were second nature to him; sometimes, despite himself, Dr. Jackson's mind strayed from the pleasant abstract of antiquity to the harsher light of the present.

The whole situation was still a bit surreal. It was, Daniel realized, similar to the time the crystal skull had put him out of phase; only this time all of SG-1 had been shifted out of phase with their entire reality. It was almost like being trapped in a play or a movie set, playing out a false reality, unable to escape. Nothing they did was real. Nothing really had an effect on anything- at least, on the anything they were familiar with. _Dangerous, really, that line of thinking._

"This is the worst thing that has ever happened to us," Jack said, as though reading Daniel's thoughts. He executed a perfect Double Stall with his yo-yo and shoved it into his pocket with a sigh.

"No." Daniel looked thoughtful. "The worst thing was that thing with the crystal skull." Sure, there were parallels between the two situations; but Daniel had just come to the conclusion that as bad as this was, being stranded on an alien world, it still beat being a ghost in your own home world.

"I concur, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said gravely.

"Wait till you run out of wall to read. Then you'll realize how bad this is." Jack was whining again. He was not an easy man to suffer adversity with. He was brave and intelligent, true; an excellent leader, not afraid to make decisions; a damn good shot; and a good source of comic relief; but the fact was, when the mood struck him, Jack whined more than a three-year-old in a grocery store. His suicidal grief of only a few years before had settled into a vein of bitterness that ran pretty close to the surface. Jack O'Neill believed the universe owed him something. If it wasn't going to return his son to him, then it ought to be compensating for his pain in every other way possible.

"We'll just have to hope General Hammond finds us before that happens," Daniel said quietly.

"Sure," Jack said. "Yeah. That will definitely happen. Any day now General Hammond is gonna come riding through that gate on a pink unicorn and save our asses from dying of boredom on this rock." He laughed without mirth. "Face it, Danny, this is where we get off. I hope you weren't counting on retiring on some beach in Florida."

"I don't know why you're even bothering," Sam said from her lookout perch. That was the final straw. Sam, of all people, knew that academic pursuit was its own reward. Her apathy hit Daniel like a punch to the gut.

 _Definitely out of phase. And if we're not careful, we'll drop out of phase with each other as well._ Daniel took a deep breath, turned to a fresh page, and adjusted his glasses. There was nothing else to do but go on working.


	6. Resignation

VI. Resignation

The very process of survival saved them in the end- the ceaseless, necessary hard work pulled them out of the doldrums and gave them one more mutual thread of shared existence, one more cord binding the four of them into an indissoluble whole. It was true that life might have been easier if they had accepted Llew's offer of a home in his village; but Jack's stubborn suspicion and Sam's uneasiness with the possibility of contamination kept them planted firmly at their original campsite beneath the looming, mocking arc of the gate.

The team's return to normal relations happened slowly. Teal'c, incredibly, smiled first, pleased with his improving mastery of the local longbow. And then half a day later Daniel cracked a joke, and Jack tried to hide his smirk. Sam planted a garden the next afternoon and returned to their shelter noticeably more relaxed. And when Jack discovered a promising fishing hole in a nearby creek, that just clinched it. He actually smiled. His whole attitude changed. From then on, Daniel knew that they were going to be okay.

************************************************************************

Jack O'Neill was sitting perfectly still, feet dangling in cold water, head back against a tree trunk and hat tipped down over his eyes. Sam paused, grinning, before tiptoeing over and plucking the hat off his face. Jack sat up, nearly dropping his fishing pole.

"Dammit, Carter!" he yelped.

"Special Ops, eh?" Carter teased.

"Maybe you missed your calling," he said. "I wasn't sleeping, by the way. You have to keep still so the fish don't get scared off. Which you'd know, if you'd ever let me take you fishing."

Sam laughed. "Don't take this the wrong way, sir, but napping next to a pond just never appealed to me."

"Napping? Napping?" O'Neill said indignantly. He reached into the grass by his side and pulled up a string of five fish, flapping them at her emphatically.

"You actually caught some!"

"Of course I caught some. That's kind of the point here."

"That's great. We could definitely use the supplement to our diets."

"Beats gathering roots and berries by a long shot," Jack said. "Fishing! The sport of kings. The only thing that could improve this experience would be a nice, cold beer."

"I thought horse racing was the sport of kings, sir."

"That's just what they let the common folk believe so they don't mob the fishing holes. Peace and quiet, Carter. Nothing like it."

Carter dug a flat stone out of the mud by her left boot and whipped it expertly out across the water, watching it skip a few times before sinking.

"Hey, cut that out! You're gonna scare off all the fish."

"Aren't you used to fishing in an empty pond, anyway?" Sam was teasing again, blue eyes bright with mischief.

"Why the sudden interest in bodies of water, Carter? I can't count the number of times you turned down fishing trips back on Earth."

Sam shrugged. "No lab here. Nothing to tinker with." She skipped another rock out. "And remember, sir, I resigned. So I'm going to get some enjoyment out of this." She said it lightly and did not look at him. No pressure. No emotions. But Jack knew her, knew what every tilt of the head and twitch of the fingers meant, and he understood that she was feeling vulnerable. He hauled in his line and cast it out again.

"Ever catch a fish, Carter?" he said easily.

"No, sir." She knelt to unlace her boots. Tugged them off, and the socks too. And she joined him on the bank, bare feet tingling in the cool current.

"Take this," he said, pressing the crude fishing rod into her hands. "Maybe today is your lucky day."

"I thought I'd scared them all off."

Jack shrugged. "It's not really about the catching. It's about the waiting."

"I think," she said, looking at him, "that I've done enough waiting."

************************************************************************

"Teal'c," Daniel said, "come with me."

"Where are we going, Daniel Jackson?" The Jaffa fell into stride beside Daniel, who was already heading across the field.

"There's really only one place to go, Teal'c," he pointed out. Teal'c inclined his head.

"Indeed," he said. "For what purpose, then, are we going to the village?"

"Oh, I thought it might be good to give Sam and Jack a little space," Daniel said.

"I see," Teal'c said. "You are a good friend, Daniel Jackson."

"Do you disapprove?" Daniel asked, glancing at his companion. Teal'c's face was as inscrutable as ever.

"I do not," he said. "I am glad that two of us can find happiness. For myself, I have spent many long nights mourning the absence of my wife."

"As have I." Daniel sped up as though trying to outdistance the memory of Sha're. Teal'c kept pace easily. After several minutes had passed, he spoke again.

"I am sorry if I have stirred up painful memories."  
"It's fine, Teal'c. You've lost more than I have, anyway. Your son-"

"Is in good hands," Teal'c interrupted. "That is how I choose to think of the matter."

The village, always a busy place, was in a state of extreme bustle when Daniel and Teal'c reached it. Daniel stopped a passing boy and conversed for a few minutes before turning back to Teal'c.

"He says Old Anwen's cottage burned last night. They got the fire put out before it could do too much damage, but when they started to clean up the rubble this morning they discovered a hiding place in the wall containing journals left there by her deceased husband. He was the Chief Healer for decades before his death! It's possible those journals contain information about the illness. I've got to find Llew."

"That woman is carrying a large volume," Teal'c pointed out, indicating a passer-by.

"She's one of the healer's assistants!" Daniel darted after her. "Excuse me!" he called in her language.

"I have no time for conversation, stranger," the woman called over her shoulder. Daniel jogged a few steps to fall in beside her.

"Is that one of the books recovered from the old doctor's cottage?"

"It is."

"I'd like to help," Daniel said. The woman stopped and looked at him.

"You can read?"

Daniel grinned. "I can read."

"Why are you laughing?"

"Oh," he said, looking anxious. "I wasn't laughing at you! It's just funny because I'm very well-educated back on my own- look, never mind. Do you think there may be information about a cure in that book?"

"We certainly hope so." The woman started walking again. "Come!" she yelled to Daniel. "Gwyn and I could use another set of eyes. This is the fifth diary we have found so far."

Daniel stumbled out into the village square, rubbing his eyes. He squinted upward. The sky was beginning to take on the wispy, grey feel of just before dawn. Yawning, he walked over to the well and drew up a bucketful of water to drink and bathe his face.

"Daniel Jackson." Teal'c's voice made Daniel jump. Water sloshed onto his shoes.

"Teal'c! What are you doing here?"

"I have been assisting with the restraint of several patients."

Daniel handed the bucket to his friend, wiping his face on his sleeve. "They've reached the frenzied stage, then?"

"Indeed." Teal'c drank deeply. "Llew is quite perturbed. With the Stargate inoperative, there is nowhere for them to dispose of these people."

"Dispose," Daniel repeated with disgust.

"They are most violent," Teal'c said calmly. "The frenzy has passed now, but there are other patients who will surely experience the same symptoms. Have you found a cure?"

"No. No, we haven't found so much as a mention of this thing. We've read through eight of the ten volumes so far. Gwyn and Mairwyn are reading the last two volumes now." Daniel re-attached the bucket to its chain and turned away, taking a deep breath. "Are you as exhausted as I am?"

"I will require kelnoreem soon."

"Let's go home, Teal'c. Jack will be worried."

"I am surprised he has not come looking for us," Teal'c said. The two men walked in silence for some time, each lost in his own haze of thoughts and exhaustion, before Teal'c spoke again. "Daniel Jackson. Do you believe Nirrti had a hand in this illness?"

"No, Teal'c, I don't. As much as I wish we could pin all the suffering in the universe on the Goa'uld, sometimes it's just nature."

"Then how can we be sure we have not been exposed?"

"It's too late now to worry about that. If it's contagious, we were exposed before we even set foot on this planet."

"Perhaps your friends will find a cure."

"Perhaps they will."


End file.
